


Top of the Hill

by Ladybird_Sparrow



Series: EliCroft [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detroit: Become Human Fusion, Alternate Universe - Kingsman Fusion, Alternate Universe - Sherlock (TV) Fusion, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Good Elijah Kamski, Kingsman AU, Kingsman Training, M/M, POV Elijah Kamski, POV Mycroft Holmes, Young Elijah Kamski, Young Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, mycroft is a little shit, or going there, so is elijah, sorta adorable bebehs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladybird_Sparrow/pseuds/Ladybird_Sparrow
Summary: Elijah was scouted by a Kingsman Agent when he was only eight years old and was then trained to be her heir from then on. After a couple of years, he met Mycroft Holmes at the annual aptitude test for future Kingsman candidates. (Companion piece for 'Ever So Slightly')
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Elijah Kamski
Series: EliCroft [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719913
Kudos: 5





	Top of the Hill

**Author's Note:**

> This is supposed to be 'Ever So Slightly's chapter two, but then I realized that this backstory doesn't have anything to do with the ongoing plot of ESS so I cut it out and posting this now as a companion piece instead.  
> And, next chapter it'll be Mycroft's POV.

**\-- Detroit, circa 2010**

**Elijah, eight years old --**

“Don’t leave me, Elijah,” Gavin gripped the ends of Elijah’s jacket. 

His half-brother’s new parents stood behind Gavin, while the lady who wanted to adopt and bring him to the UK, because of some _test_ he passed at the police station, waited by the doorway.

“We don’t have a choice, Gavin. But don’t worry, the lady promised that your new parents are good people. They won’t hurt you as the last one did to us.”

After he was offered the opportunity for them to have better lives, how could Elijah not take it? His brother would be looked after and both their education would be paid for even if they chose to study in the finest and most expensive school in the world. All Elijah had to do was study hard, pass several exams, train, and follow orders. Really, it would be a vacation compared to their old lives back in the foster care system.

“Will we ever see each other again?” His brother wept and Elijah wiped away Gavin’s tears with his sleeve.

“Silly, why won’t we?” Then he hugged his half-brother tightly for as long as he was allowed. Elijah knew it would take years before he would be able to see Gavin again in person. They would miss each other for sure, but this was still loads better than getting beaten up black and blue.

"It's time to go, Elijah." His new foster parent placed her hand on his shoulder. And so, he untangled himself from the sobbing Gavin, who was also pulled away by his brother's new guardians.

Then he turned to face the lady who saved them from getting beaten up to death out in the street by their previous foster parent.

"Should I call you mom?"

The lady smiled and leaned down to his level. She brushed away his bangs, clearing any hindrances to his sight.

"Of course not. We need to do something about your hair. From now on, I’ll be your handler and you may call me Morgana."

* * *

**\-- London, circa 2012**

**Elijah Kamski, ten years old --**

There were less than three hundred children left in the auditorium that started out from a thousand. Elijah couldn't help but wonder how the other children failed the several but easy examinations. Or if Morgana's teaching were just that effective for him.

He was quite bored and wanted to explore the place but the instructors told them to wait here for their guardians to fetch them. And so, while he waited, Elijah put on his eyeglasses, then pulled out a broken rim and a precision screwdriver from his pocket. It was a part of the shattered techno-intelligent spectacles he found in their house and the tiny wirings had intrigued him. So to entertain himself while he waited for his handler to come, he found a quiet corner where he could be alone to tinker with it.

He busily prodded at it for several minutes when he noticed a bigger boy, not that far away from where he was sitting, was casually watching him. Then the said large boy pulled a _Mars Bar_ out of their pocket and gingerly tore out the upper half of the wrapper. 

Elijah only had bland oatmeal that morning. Morgana’s strict diet doesn’t include sweets and his mouth watered from seeing the chocolate bar. Next thing he knew, he was in front of the chubby kid.

Might as well ask then.

“Can I have a bite?”

The bigger boy took their sweet time chewing before he got his reply.

“What’s your placement?”

He thought for a second about what this got to do with the chocolate then raised an eyebrow when it hit him like a freight train.

“Bloody Christ, we’re only ten and you’re already flapping about pecking order.”

“Well?”

Well, Elijah thought he was placed high enough and smiled menacingly at the bigger boy.

“Twenty-five.”

But the boy only smirked at his answer.

“Get a decent rank next time and I’ll give you a cookie.”

* * *

**\-- London, circa 2013**

**Elijah Kamski, eleven years old --**

Elijah read his certificate and couldn’t believe that once again, he was at rank twenty-five this year, even though he got extra points for dismantling and reassembling an agent’s watch with added upgrades in record time. Did that mean he got lower grades for the essentials? Morgana won't be pleased.

“I see, you still don’t get a cookie from me.”

He turned around when he heard the chubby boy’s smug voice over his shoulder. Elijah hastily crumpled his certificate and forced it inside his coat’s pocket.

This time, the kid munched on a _Crunchie_. He scowled at the offending candy then up at the chewing kid. The rage bubbled up inside him and there’s nothing he could do about it but explode.

“WHO THE FUCK CARES!” The boy jolted a bit when he shrieked.

“Elijah! Come here.” He stiffened when he heard his handler’s stern voice. 

Slowly, he approached her, afraid of what awaited him. Her lips were so thin with disapproval and with a very frigid tone, she said, “You seem to be forgetting proper manners, young man.”

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry, Morgana.”

"No, you will not learn if I let this one slip."

* * *

**\-- London, circa 2014**

**Elijah Kamski, twelve years old --**

He’s hopelessly still stuck at rank twenty-five. 

Dejected at the results, Elijah carefully folded-up his certificate several times until he couldn’t any longer, while he tried not to jostle the robot cat on his shoulder as he did so. Then he slid the paper inside his coat pocket and headed out of the auditorium. Morgana was locked on a mission overseas and had sent a chauffeur to wait for him at the carpark.

Earlier that week, Gavin sent him a picture of their family pet cat and out of jealousy, because his handler would only allow one very old dog in the house, Elijah built a robot cat. The cat was actually just a mesh of exposed wires and circuit boards. It was purring while its tail swished back and forth, gently thumping at his spine. 

Even though it wasn't that nice to look at, he got attached to it and would bring it wherever he needed to go. Not wanting to think about his ranking, he distracted himself with the thought about how he would make a casing and skin for his cat while he was on his way out.

While he walked down the hall though, he saw the chubby kid again, busily scrolling on their phone while eating sweets. Elijah decided to walk past him, unwilling to bother with the sweet-toothed kid.

“What an ugly and useless toy.”

Elijah was offended by the bigger boy’s comment and halted on the spot. Morgana had begun to teach him on how he would be able to control his emotions, but the breathing techniques and mindscapes were useless to him at the moment.

He then spun around to harshly retort, “Well you’re…,” but his words trailed off when an idea occurred to him.

“...right.” A small smile started to tug at the ends of his lips. The chubby kid tilted his head with a confused expression on their face.

“You’re absolutely right. It is useless.” Elijah giggled and jauntily jogged onwards to the carpark.

Next year, he planned on siccing the robot cat at the annoying kid if he ever hears one offending comment out of their mouth.

* * *

**\-- London, circa 2015**

**Elijah Kamski, thirteen years old --**

“Run, Holmes! Run!” Elijah shouted as he cackled. His cat had immediately leaped towards the enemy to attack after a rude comment was directed at him.

But then, it only took the chubby kid five steps to find a floor lamp, then motioned with a wide arched --but on-point swing-- to smash Coco, his android cat. 

Rest in pieces, Coco and the brass Moroccan floor lamp.

However, he shouldn’t have underestimated Holmes just because of their large size. They were under one of the few institutions in this country that made sure the pool of selections for the next Kingsman candidates remained competent, determined by the annual aptitude tests. And all of them taking those exams are possible future secret service agents. 

Of course _he_ wasn’t the only one here being trained by _someone_.

He pried his eyes away from Coco to look at… oh. Oh. Well. It looks like the boy was busily back to eating again. Where did he get the donut? Not even bothered one bit about the attack drone Elijah had planned for him for over a year.

All the other children stared at them, while Elijah stared at the munching boy as he replayed how the kid smashed Coco to pieces in his head again and again. Holmes' moves weren't elegant nor powerful, it was efficient. Actually, it dangerously bordered on lazy. But, he could clearly see that the chubby boy had indeed undergone some form of training because, for such a young age, there was no hesitation on the boy's part whatsoever. 

Once more, he considered and made a thorough analysis in his head. In that short amount of time, to Elijah's eyes at least, Holmes’ actions looked premeditated. The location and reach of what could incapacitate the robot, those deliberate steps, and that subtle swivel of the head and eye movement that told Elijah about the consideration for the direction of the swing and on where the robot would land that won’t hurt anybody else in the vicinity. Elijah wasn’t sure if he was making it all up in his head, but his guts told him how Holmes moved with logic instead of rote. 

Plus, Morgana had seen fit to train Elijah’s perception essentially in how to analyze movements, especially in battle, as well as enhancing his eidetic memory. After all, his perfect recall was the reason he was adopted in the first place and he trusted those skills quite enough. 

He unexpectedly liked what he found. That _logical_ trait of Holmes was amazing and he grinned. He couldn’t contain the feelings that wanted to burst out of him.

"That was brilliant!" He whooped and cheered with arms wide open in front of the boy who had stopped mid-bite on his _Bavarian_.

However, one of the instructors finally arrived to corner him, “Mr Kamski, what the hell do you think you were doing?” And dragged him towards the office by the ear to get reprimanded. Holmes still looked at him with confusion and Elijah gave him a two thumbs up. The chubby kid looked even more confused with his actions.

And even though he was still stuck at rank twenty-five that year, his robot cat smashed to smithereens, and would probably be punished later on for his shenanigans, the day still had ended golden.

* * *

**\-- London, circa 2016**

**Elijah Kamski, fourteen years old --**

“I’ve tried so hard and there's only a couple of hundred kids left. Why am I still stuck in this rank?” Elijah gloomily asked once they stepped out of the auditorium. 

As they walked, instead of reassuring him to not mind the ranking, like she would always do, however, his handler sighed tiredly at him before replying, “Because this institution wanted future agents and not inventors. You need to focus on your training, Elijah. Use that head of yours to hone your reflexes and improve your strategic skills instead. You should mind the tactics you use on how to be successful in your simulations and not on figuring out how you could make a replica of my tech equipment. Do you understand?”

No, he doesn't. But it’s not as if he could question the person who has authority over him in matters such as this.

Therefore, he could only answer with, "Yes, Morgana."

But it seemed his melancholy was so unbearable that his handler was willing to give him some reprieve. "Maybe you just need some motivation. We could visit your brother this coming holiday. Would you like that?"

That was one good news he could look forward to, at least. He desperately missed Gavin and felt like his brother was far too distant from him lately, both literally and metaphorically. He smiled brilliantly at his guardian and nodded.

"Yes, please."

They passed Holmes who was seated on the bench eating pop-tarts while playing a game on their phone.

“Morgana, could you please go on ahead? I’ll catch up. It’ll only be for a moment.”

When he could hear his handler’s stiletto heels tap down the corridor, Elijah pulled out a circular pill box, with a transparent cover, and dropped it on the wooden bench, next to the chubby teen. Holmes paused whatever game it was on their phone before turning to Elijah with an inclined head.

When he finally had the kid’s attention, Elijah pushed the button in the middle and the pill box whirred to life. The inside spun and filled with _sugary_ wispy substance. It was full after three seconds and Elijah popped the lid open. It smelled heavenly sweet with pastel pink and baby blue coloring. 

Then he pulled the rod in the middle making the sticky cotton candy dragged with it and Elijah had to move the rod in such directions to make the cottony strands rope around the cotton body. In the end, the ball of cotton candy was five times bigger than the pill box.

“Here, tell me how it tastes. It’s my own recipe.”

When Holmes only raised an eyebrow at him and didn’t move to take it, Elijah rolled his eyes and took a bite.

“There. I’m not dead nor writhing on the ground in pain. It’s just cotton candy. I’m also giving you the machine if it wasn’t obvious enough.”

Holmes looked incredulous and said, “So, you’re taking revenge for your useless robot by enabling my addiction to sweets?”

With a straight face, Elijah said, “I guess, I’m that kind of evil mastermind.” Then he tried to offer the cotton candy fluff to the bigger teen again. “Here, die a horrible death, Agent Holmes.” 

Holmes held it with one hand, pinched and pulled away a tiny part. The boy sniffed then nibbled at it and immediately grimaced. “It tastes like boiled broccoli and green peas.”

Then Elijah cackled maniacally out loud. “Be traumatized by my nutritious cotton candy!”

Holmes's expression was back to the bored look it always had. “You like to make useless stuff, do you Kamski?”

“Seriously mate, my guardian doesn’t want me to eat sweets, so I made this for a school project. It’s a kid’s version of MRE, those Meals Ready-to-Eat bars given to the military. Theatrics included for children’s enjoyment, of course. It passed her standards, the professor and the lab tests. So I could guarantee it’s safe and healthy. The taste does need some improvement though, but what’s wrong about broccoli and green peas? At least it’s the good kind of broccoli and peas.”

Holmes looked like he was betrayed by someone close to him. “Just. Cotton. Candy. You liar. You ruined cotton candy for me. I’m never eating anything from you ever again.”

Then Elijah rolled his eyes before he exclaimed, “But this is better!”

* * *

**\-- London, circa 2017**

**Elijah Kamski, fifteen years old --**

Elijah sat in a lonely corner of the auditorium, curled up into a ball, hugging his folded legs. His certificate was on the floor in front of him, the cursed placement number staring mockingly back at him. It was the neat little bow that went nicely on top of the bundled miserable events that transpired over the last few days.

Indeed, bitterness oozed out of him because of how stressful this month was for Elijah. 

First, Morgana enrolled him in a dance class where he felt so humiliated surrounded by children. She told him it was imperative for him to learn some of the basics so that they could improve his core balance, spatial awareness, and flexibility for further training in combative gymnastics.

Then, when he failed to arrive on time for that cursed class' second meeting, his handler confiscated all his tech equipment and told him it was punishment for getting too distracted with his hobbies. He felt so unjustified because his school projects were to blame during that time and Morgana doesn't want to listen to any of his explanations. 

Lastly, his brother doesn’t want to answer any of his calls, texts, or emails and that left him in a very infuriated simmering state.

A large shadow covered him, blocking away the ceiling lights of the auditorium. Then he heard the unwelcome obnoxious voice of Holmes above him. "You're so slow and I got tired of waiting when you'll finally figure it out."

Elijah blew his bangs away from his eyes and looked up at the bigger kid without moving his head. Holmes stood in front of him while sucking on a lollipop looking bored.

"What are you talking about?" He asked without inflections and Holmes made an eyeroll.

"I don't have the energy to deal with moody teens. Your placement, Kamski. Please do keep up."

This time, it was he who gave the eyeroll. "Whatever, Holmes."

"Listen. Even if you grew up here in your formative years, you're still not British. You're also not from one of the elite families. Do I have to spell it out for you on why you're stuck in number twenty-five, and why it would be the highest rank you'll ever get? On paper, of course."

All the little details he had compiled in his head throughout the years had lit up. The well known and powerful surnames of the other participants. Tidbits about his handler. His adoption papers that tried to obscure his former life.

He was an outlier. Morgana’s pet project, not because she wanted to prove anything to the institution, but only because she can't have a child. Then she grabbed the first opportunity presented to her when she saw his potential back in Detroit.

But why would he care? It doesn’t matter if he was on a higher rank or not. He only agreed to be a part of this because of what he and his brother would benefit from it. The only important thing was to stay in the program.

Still, the unfairness of it all hurts like acid that slowly melts him from the inside. Then he remembered how Holmes asked what his placement was years ago and seeing the boy now, saying those things, made him feel even more bitter.

"Go. Away. Holmes." His voice cracked towards the end.

Again, Holmes just rolled his eyes at Elijah but pulled out a couple pages of folded paper inside his coat.

"You're not that bright are you? I got your records and everyone else. Don’t you want to know your actual rank?" Then Holmes inclined his head to the side and looked at Elijah with half-lidded eyes. "Still want that cookie, or should I leave you to sulk here then?"

A few minutes later, they were both seated on the bench in the hallway and had just finished computing his grades.

"Twelve. I’m actually ranked twelve," he said in a disbelieving tone. With his glasses on, Elijah inspected his certificate with the number twenty-five printed on it. It wasn't covered up or anything though, plus it was the same with his records. It listed him in rank twenty-five. But if somebody audited his grades and compared it to the other kids, his placement was nothing but a lie.

"Not bad. Remember, politics exist everywhere." Holmes pulled out a ziplock plastic bag containing a few chocolate chip cookies inside from his other pocket. "I guess you could have some."

Surprised with this development, Elijah’s eyebrows vanished underneath his bangs. “Did you bring cookies specifically for this day? I mean, to cheer me up?”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself, Kamski. I always have a stash of chocolate chip cookies on my person.”

Then Holmes opened it, took a piece, and bit on the cookie, before he pushed the bag towards Kamski, motioning for him to take one.

Elijah tilted his head at Holmes and said, “I’m not allowed.”

Holmes then replied monotonously with a straight face. “What? A rebel like you would be stopped from eating cookies?”

Elijah couldn’t help but smile as he took a cookie. But Holmes sported an impatient look when Elijah inspected it first before he took a bite. And god the cookie was so delicious that he cried.

When all of the cookies were gone and he no longer felt like crying, Elijah asked what Holmes’ rank was.

"I’m number one, of course."


End file.
